Slow Burn
by Sacred Dust
Summary: Anger contemplates his role in Riley's life the night before Joy and Sadness are sucked out of Headquarters.


**ONE: Witness**

The dream played back in shades of gold, bathing the control room in a peaceful light. It was the thing most integral to Riley's being, this simple image of her parents taking her ice skating on the lake. And Joy, her most integral Emotion, skated with her.

She was incandescent, feet gliding effortlessly along the floor as she mimicked the girl's every move. It was always a special occasion when the pixie plugged a Core Memory into Riley's dreams, because all of these memories were happy ones and Joy took great pleasure in reliving them. So absorbed was she in the moment that she did not notice the other Emotion still awake in Headquarters.

Anger shuffled his feet self-consciously. He stood in the shadows just beyond the glow of the screen and tried to comprehend what he saw.

Yes, Riley was happy in this memory. He knew that much. It was in the details that he faltered. Anger understood happiness mainly as the absence of injustice. No one was bothering Riley in this vision; no one was depriving her of something needful; nothing stood between her and a sense of satisfaction. When she was satisfied, so was he. When she was wounded or things were NOT FAIR, he raged.

Happiness in and of itself was something he did not quite understand. And so it followed that he did not quite understand Joy. She frolicked and pep-talked her way through every day, never doubting for a moment that she was the leader and the number-one Emotion in Riley's mind, and why not? She was the first to come along at the girl's birth, she knew the console like the back of her shimmering hand, and when it came time to send up the day's experiences to the annals of Long-Term Memory, nearly every memory was colored in her characteristic yellow.

But Anger saw dark clouds forming on the horizon. To an extent this was always true; one could not personify fury without at least anticipating trouble. Yet there was a different feeling about this night. He couldn't shake the impression that Riley's future, perhaps even her near future, would be full of things that were NOT FAIR. Two of the other Emotions had shared similar opinions with him in those rare moments when Joy was not present. Disgust saw alienation and bad influences around every corner; Fear expressed worries over the unexpected. "The other shoe's gonna drop, I just know it," he'd whimpered a few nights ago.

Fear was _always_ worried, but maybe this time he was on to something. The journey to San Francisco, the moving van being stuck in Texas of all places, the weird pizza, Mom and Dad burdening Riley with their worries when she had enough of her own...all of these things had Anger seriously peeved.

The greatest concern shared by all three of them was change. Joy didn't seem to appreciate that yet, and Sadness...well, who knew what she was thinking? She'd been shunted to the sidelines long ago, although it didn't seem likely or right that this would go on forever. But the change had come all the same, and it had to be dealt with.

And so he stood by and watched Joy dance with a mixture of respect and frustration. She was the most important Emotion, yet she too often took this for granted. She was very good at her job, but was totally unprepared for what might happen if the requirements were to change. So it always was with her.

Anger shook his head and retreated, unseen, to the second floor of Headquarters where the other three Emotions were already at rest. Joy wasn't the only one who had her favorite memories of Riley, even though she had by far the most to choose from. Tonight, he pushed a button next to his bed (red sheets, of course) and played back his most cherished image.

 _A Prairie Dogs hockey game. Riley is nine, perhaps ten. It is her first playoff game and she is excited to compete. The game IS competitive, just how Anger likes it-tied at 1 going into the second period._

 _So far Riley has simply enjoyed herself and striven to play her best, but then something bad happens. One of the girls on the opposing team (the Fighting Turtles; what a stupid name!) trips Riley to the ice while stealing the puck and the referee doesn't see it. A startled Joy stumbles back from the controls as Riley's happiness turns to outrage._

 _Anger's head steams, boils, then erupts. He stalks up to the console-"So they wanna play ROUGH, huh?!"-and shoves his special handlebars all the way forward. Riley plays the rest of the game angry, and her anger makes her strong. Later she whips the puck right by the mean girl's face to score a goal._

He nodded with deep satisfaction as the memory ended. The Prairie Dogs won that game, 5-2. He was there for Riley that day when she needed him the most. It wouldn't be his last triumph. This crazy city threatened Riley with injustice like she had never before suffered, and if it came, he would be there again. Riley would boil like lava, lash out like a whip, stand firm as a brick wall. And if the situation demanded it, she would turn her back and storm off, leaving pain and confusion in her wake.

"Oh, Anger, that's ridiculous!" Joy said when he tried to express this to her, one day long before the move. "She's perfectly _happy!_ Besides, she's just an 11-year-old girl. She could never do something like that."

No, maybe Riley couldn't-and that was what bothered him. He hoped, just once, to prove Joy wrong.

He took a baleful glance at himself in the dark. He was solidly built, and he liked that; it meant that Riley's anger was strong and powerful when it came out. On the other hand he was also the shortest of her Emotions, and that meant Riley's fits were often very brief. Something-usually Joy-always distracted him at the controls, and then the girl couldn't stay angry long enough to get what she wanted. In his opinion, that had to change.

"I care about Riley too, for crying out loud," he muttered. "But she needs protection."

Fear whimpered in his sleep, as though in agreement. Disgust murmured something unintelligible and turned over. Sadness remained silent.

Anger closed his eyes. He liked Joy, and no one wanted to rock the boat with such a successful leader at the helm. But maybe tomorrow, he would get the chance to call a few more shots around here.

You never knew.


End file.
